


Every You and Every Me

by tabulaxrasa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coda, Dean Being an Idiot, Episode Tag, Ketch is done with this bullshit, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, One Shot, Post-Episode: s13e17 The Thing, apocalypse world Castiel, apocalypse world shenanigans, saved by true love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-09
Updated: 2018-04-09
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14265729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tabulaxrasa/pseuds/tabulaxrasa
Summary: Dean and Ketch last about two hours before Michael catches them.Michael is not the only angel that shows up.





	Every You and Every Me

**Author's Note:**

> While I don't think this is what will happen, I couldn't let the idea go once it was in my head. Title from Placebo, of course.
> 
> Please point out any mistakes! It's been such a long time since I posted...
> 
> And yes, I do intend for this to be a one-shot, sorry.

It takes about two hours for Michael to find them.

He studies Dean up close, curious, and Dean wants to meet his eyes but the truth is he knows he fucked up big time and he is actually fucking terrified. Dean has decades of practice covering that up, of course, but facing down archangels was the one thing that you just couldn’t take lightly.

Dean had been stupid; he’ll admit that now. Obviously. He’d been in Protect Sam, Protect Cas mode, and he’d been thinking that if he brought back Mom, Sam would be happy, and if he brought back Jack, Cas would be happy.

Stupid.

Michael _sniffs_ him. “You’re the Michael Sword,” he says, and Dean’s stomach falls somewhere well below the Earth’s crust. He can hear Ketch hiss and feel him glaring at him, but Ketch is his very last worry right now. He doesn’t answer Michael but he can’t help the nervous swallow, for all that it feels like swallowing a lump of tar.

Michael takes a step back and considers him. “I think you’d be a better vessel,” he says. “Will you consent?”

The one mercy is that Dean’s voice is only a little hoarse. “I’d rather die.”

Michael looks annoyed, the kind of annoyed you get when someone steals your parking spot. He turns to some of the angels around. “Lock him up for now. Later, one of you can torture him until he says yes.”

“No means no, asshole!” Dean shouts but it’s too late. Angels have their hands on him and are dragging him away.

He and Ketch end up in separate cages, but they’re right next to each other.

“The Michael Sword,” Ketch mocks, but Dean’s beyond giving a fuck about him. Ketch drawls on in his annoying fucking superior accent, but Dean just tunes out the background noise. 

“You didn’t think that little bit of information might come into play? Might be in _any way_ significant?” Ketch continues, but Dean ignores him easily. He’s got his own soundtrack of failure inside his head, and it’s more than adequate to beat himself up with.

Sam and Cas, disappointed and abandoned. Mom, trapped and tortured forever. Jack, lost and waiting in vain for help.

Fuck, he’s an idiot.

There are footsteps in the dungeon, coming across the cement floor, and Dean automatically looks up to assess the threat.

In a second, his heart is in his throat.

It’s Cas.

“Cas?” He didn’t decide to speak, it just bursts out of him.

No. It’s Cas 1.0, original trench coat and backwards tie and sex hair, and he looks more like the angel in the barn than Dean has seen in a long, long time.

Dean’s frozen, except his heart, which is racing fit to break his ribs. His throat hurts.

Cas tilts his head, just like he had when they’d first met. He keeps coming closer, and Dean scrambles to get to his feet, to get closer to Cas, because that’s just what he does. 

Cas comes right up to the cell, and he’d probably be closer if the bars weren’t in the way. Dean, knees shaky, grabs the bars and uses them to keep himself upright.

“Cas?”

“I am Castiel.” The angel is wary, and looking into his eyes is all Dean needs to know this isn’t _his_ Cas. Cas— Castiel— doesn’t look away, staring in a fixed way that Dean recognizes, but Cas hasn’t looked at him like that in eight years. There’s no emotion in his eyes, only curiosity and puzzlement and none of the things Dean looks for.

Dean has to clear his throat. “Hi, Castiel. I’m Dean.”

“Hello, Dean.”

It jolts him, and Dean’s not sure if it’s a pleasant jolt or not. Dean licks his lips and it’s only when Castiel’s eyes don’t waver that Dean realizes his Cas would have looked down to follow the movement, and it’s only now that Dean even realizes it’s something he looks for.

Shit.

“Are you really doing this?” Ketch drawls, sounding both bored and disgusted. Neither Dean nor Castiel look at him. Cas is in full-on creepy staring mode, and Dean’s not inclined to make him stop.

It’s _Castiel,_ is the thing. It’s still Cas, right? Just a Cas that hasn’t met Dean yet. Hasn’t fallen. Is still brain washed and programmed and reprogrammed. (And maybe Dean had thought that Castiel might rebel for humanity anyway, in a situation like this, but maybe Cas really had done it just for Dean all along, and that is _terrifying._ )

“Why do you know me?” Castiel asks, still squint-staring. “You’ve been…calling me.”

Dean hadn’t been, not on purpose, but obviously his misery had brought Castiel here. “You saved me from Hell,” Dean says. _You saved me from everything._

“ _I_ did?” Castiel frowns, tilts his head the other way, and Dean struggles not to react because… because it’s freaking adorable.

Castiel raises his hand, slightly, his right hand, and Dean wonders if there’s still some secret mark on his shoulder after all.

Dean reaches, slowly, through the bars, and, still slowly, wraps a hand around Castiel’s wrist. Lightly.

That thing he tries not to think about is pounding in his head. _“When Castiel first laid hands on you in Hell, he was lost.”_

He guides Castiel’s unresisting hand to his shoulder, right where it should go, and leaves it there.

Dean has no idea what Castiel’s picking up but he’s clearly getting something. He looks even more confused, and a little disturbed. But he’s not letting go.

“You’re my friend,” Dean says quietly, and it doesn’t feel too much like a lie, the way it can in his own world. 

“Angels are not friends with humans,” Castiel says, and he lets go and takes his hand back through the bars.

“Not usually,” Dean agrees, trying not to panic and scare him off. “But you’re different. You’re different from the others, Cas.”

Castiel frowns, and it’s clear he doesn’t like that, but he doesn’t argue it, either.

“I know they hurt you,” Dean says, voice quiet so even Ketch can’t overhear. “I know, Cas, that you always try to do what’s right. Even if it’s not what Heaven says.”

Castiel shakes his head, and he’s frowning, but he’s still here, and he’s still listening. “We do the Lord’s work.”

“Do you?” Dean presses, still quiet. “Is this what your Father wants, Cas? Killing humans? ‘Cause I’ve talked to him, Cas.”

Castiel looks up like Dean’s words are a magnet pulling on his head, eyes hungry. _Yeah,_ Dean thinks, _there you are._ “In the world I come from, Cas, you rebelled. You fought with me. And God was real proud of you for that.”

Castiel takes a step back, and he shakes his head, but Dean knows he’s not denying it, not really. Processing takes him some time, that’s all. 

Then Castiel straightens up, eyes distant, and Dean remembers that, too. “Orders?” he asks.

“I must go.” Castiel hesitates, just for a second, and Dean thinks he’s about to say something, but then he vanishes.

And Dean hasn’t missed that little trick. _Fricking angels,_ he thinks, and it’s a comforting, familiar thought.

“Wow,” Ketch says. “What the hell was that little rendezvous?” Dean flips him off.

 

Michael comes in after awhile, once Dean’s stomach is really rumbling. “Are you ready to consent now, Michael Sword?”

Dean snorts. This Michael is cold and obviously a dick and Dean might have said yes to a Michael that looked like his father, but this Michael… no chance.

Plus, Cas would kick his ass again.

“We’ve been through this in my universe, you and I,” Dean says confidently. “And I didn’t say yes then, either.”

In his universe, Michael used the bodies of his family to look at Dean with a kind of care that might have fooled him. This Michael, in this universe, looks at him like an interesting insect. Dean appreciates the honesty.

“I can torture you until you say yes,” Michael says.

Dean pouts a little. “Coerced consent doesn’t count, man. What’s wrong with you?”

“It serves my purposes,” Michael says, face flat like a cliff. 

Yeah, Dean knows that too. Angels aren’t big on informed consent. Dicks.

Michael half-turns to one of his sycophant angels. “Naomi?”

“Yes, sir?”

Well, of all the bitches to show up. And that didn’t seem good for him.

“Make sure an iron maiden is prepared for my intended vessel.”

Nope, definitely not good for him.

“Something tells me I don’t want these front row seats,” Dean mutters.

The angels ignore him, and leave on their business, and Dean takes a deep breath.

If he prays to Castiel, will the other angels hear it?

Will it even make a difference?

Dean retreats as far as he can, to the back wall, and sinks to the ground. Even Ketch is finally silent. Dean bows his head.

It’s a long time, or at least it feels like it, before there’s a change of pressure— or maybe a slight gasp from Ketch, who’s watching— but definitely no flutter of wings, because Cas only started doing that after Dean complained Cas needed a bell.

Dean looks up and Castiel is standing right outside his cage, staring. “Hello, Dean.”

Dean’s smile is entirely involuntary. “Heya, Cas.”

“Hello, Mr. Ketch,” Ketch says.

Dean gets to his feet and steps over to the bars, wrapping his hands around them again instead of reaching for Cas. Again.

“I…don’t understand why I’m here,” Cas says. Dean understands that Castiel isn’t questioning why Dean prayed for him, but why Castiel actually came.

 _Because you were lost from the moment you laid hands on me. Or maybe even eyes._ Dean swallows, hard. “Because we’re family,” Dean says. _You’re my hope and my faith and my future,_ Dean thinks at him hard.

Castiel looks the angelic version of baffled. 

_I love you,_ Dean prays at him. _I know you don’t understand what that means, and I guess without me you never might. But it means I know you._ Out loud, he says: “I know you. I know you’re not this. Not an anonymous soldier who doesn’t question orders, who doesn’t think about right from wrong. You’re not a hammer.”

Cas is frozen under the onslaught of Dean’s prayer and words, and when Dean finishes, Castiel’s eyes are burning into him, and Dean knows he’s searching Dean’s soul.

Dean doesn’t look away.

Castiel frowns. “You’re so…bright,” he mutters. “It’s like…like what Heaven used to be.” And there is, at last, something familiar in his eyes.

Dean can feel his ears heating up. He’s also very aware of Ketch watching intently from the next cell.

“You just have to open this door,” Dean says. He’s not even begging, although he wouldn’t hesitate. “So I can find the rest of my family, and we can all go home.”

“They’ll kill me,” Castiel says. He doesn’t sound particularly bothered.

“You can come with me,” Dean says immediately. Two Castiels? Dean has to slam the breaks on that train of thought real fast. Definitely not the time.

Castiel tilts his head again, and it’s still adorable. But it does make Dean miss _his_ Cas something fierce. They aren’t on good terms at the moment, exactly, and Dean’s ready to go home and grovel. Although if he rolls up with Mary and Jack, he may get out of it. There’s probably still going to be some yelling, though.

Castiel raises his hand, and touches the lock on Dean’s cage. It swings open, silently.

“Thank you, Cas,” Dean whispers. He wants to hug him but doesn’t dare.

“This one as well?” Castiel looks at Ketch. Ketch is already on his feet, at the door of his cage.

Dean takes a moment to consider.

“Winchester!” Ketch hisses.

“Yeah,” Dean nods, without smiling. “Him, too.”

As soon as Ketch gets out he says “I can’t believe we’re being saved by _true love._ ”

“He could put you back in the cage,” Dean says. His ears and neck are burning.

Castiel has that look like he’s about to vanish, but he hesitates.

“You coming with us?” Dean asks.

Castiel looks flat and calm, but Dean can see the conflict churning him. “For now,” he says. 

Cas is going to do something stupid, Dean thinks, but they’ll keep each other alive as long as they can. That’s what they do.

**Author's Note:**

> Because people have mentioned what happens next: if you want to write it, PLEASE do so! Run with it! Blanket permission!


End file.
